Take Me For Longing
by starrysummernights
Summary: Cabin Pressure. Omegaverse. Martin moaned, feeling nauseous, his stomach roiling and heaving as if he had flu. He didn't, though. He knew what this was. He'd been dreading it for days now. It'd been inevitable, though, just like death or Douglas's oh-so witty remarks when Martin screwed up a landing. Both were things Martin equally dreaded…though not as much as he'd feared this.


**This is the first Cabin Pressure fic I've ever written so any reviews or feedback would be appreciated. **

**This is also Omegaverse so please keep that in mind as you read. **

**Enjoy :)**

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The din of raucous laughter traveled up through the thin floorboards, loud and grating. The muted sound of bottles clinking and the heavy, bass thump of music was incredibly loud in Martin's small attic room. It was the weekend and important end-of-term exams were coming up soon. The uni students Martin lived with had decided throwing a party was the best way to blow off steam and soothe their nerves. Half the school had turned up for the party, judging by the level of noise, and it wouldn't be long before the police were called by a neighbor for the disturbance.

In his attic, all by himself, Martin listened to the party down below, writhing on sweat-soaked sheets. He whimpered high in his throat as he gripped fistfuls of the rough, scratchy fabric and tugged, futilely trying to anchor himself. He felt as if he were about to go out of his mind. His body jittered, muscles jumping beneath his skin, and he felt horribly flushed and hot. Earlier, he'd turned the cheap, white fan in the corner on full blast but it hadn't helped. If anything, the flutter of warm air against his overly sensitive skin made things worse.

Martin moaned, feeling nauseous, his stomach roiling and heaving as if he had flu. He didn't, though. He knew what this was. He'd been dreading it for days now. It'd been inevitable, though, just like death or Douglas's oh-so witty remarks when Martin screwed up a landing. Both were things Martin equally dreaded…though not as much as he'd feared _this_.

_God_. He'd forgotten how much he _hated_ this. It'd been years since his last heat and somehow, Martin had repressed how horrible it really was. And no wonder. Unwanted, overwhelming arousal flooded his body, making him almost sick with _need_. His skin was sensitive, his nipples rock hard, his pelvis tingled. His arse felt wet and disconcertingly…_open_. His cock, hard and untouched, arched above his stomach, throbbing, demanding his attention. Peeling his eyes open, Martin looked down at it, the organ angry and red, and watched as it pulsated, a drop of clear fluid welling from the tip and spooling in a thin line onto his stomach.

Martin squeezed his eyes shut, whining. His thrust his hips up, fruitlessly rutting his cock into the empty air. Of course it didn't help. Nothing helped. His chest constricted, the panic he'd been doing his best to keep at bay starting to get the better of him. Martin forced himself to take deep, even breaths, trying to calm himself even as frustrated tears streaked uselessly down his cheeks. There was no reason to panic. No reason at all. Millions of people experienced heat all the time. His was nothing to be worried about.

It was just…well, he hadn't had a heat in years, not since his early twenties. He'd always religiously taken his heat suppressants every day at the correct time, even when he was in different time zones. He'd been careful. Vigilant.

This month, though, he hadn't been able to afford them.

End-of-term always meant great business for Icarus Removals…but Martin had been stuck on standby at the airfield the past three weeks. A rich client had paid Carolyn an extravagant sum- which Martin hadn't seen a pence of- to be at his beck and call. And Martin hadn't wanted to complain- flying was his passion, his life, it was the reason he got up in the mornings- but being stuck on standby meant he couldn't take any jobs, and when he couldn't take any jobs he wasn't making money, and when he wasn't making money…

Martin's cock throbbed again and a distressing gush of wetness trickled from his arse, soaking into the already sweat-damp sheets. He sobbed, hands knotting themselves in his hair and pulling, using the sharp pain to temporarily take his attention away from the crushing sensual demands of his body. He hadn't been able to afford a sodding packet of pills worth 20 pounds. God, how pathetic was he?

At least his heat hadn't started until he'd arrived home. A small, but important, mercy.

Martin shuddered at the idea of his heat starting while he'd been in the portacabin on standby, in the small confines where the change in his scent would have been noticeable immediately. He could all-too-well imagine the surprised look on Douglas's face when he smelled Martin and turned to him, his face a mask of shock and mockery.

Martin fidgeted, searching for a more comfortable, cooler spot on his bed. It was a hopeless endeavor. There wasn't one. The problem wasn't his bed or the hot, sticky sheets which made his skin prickle. The problem was in his body, beneath his skin, his very biology, and there was no soothing that.

Oh, there was _something_ that could soothe it, Martin thought hysterically as more wetness eased out of his arse. But there wasn't anyone he could call. He didn't know any available Alphas. He could probably go downstairs and have his pick of any Alpha at the party, he thought cynically. One sniff and they'd be all over him, jockeying for the chance to fuck him…but he shuddered in revulsion at that thought. He'd never been with an Alpha during his heat and the idea of sharing his first one with a complete stranger who didn't give a toss for him was…distressing.

Unwanted, the idea of calling Douglas sailed through Martin's mind. Douglas was an Alpha. Martin knew Douglas and, unless he was horribly wrong, Douglas cared for him….somewhat. At least as a passing acquaintance. He had Douglas on speed dial. He was just a phone call away.

As if _he_ would help, Martin snorted, tossing his head back and ineffectively grinding his arse down against the bed in an effort to relieve the ache. No doubt Douglas would only laugh, pretend to waffle over whether or not he would come over, ask a lot of prying, embarrassing questions to get Martin to say humiliating things…before laughing and hanging up on Martin. Then, for the rest of the time they worked together, Martin would be treated to endless jokes at his expense. He couldn't face that. Even if the alternative was…

Sobbing, Martin finally gave in to the overwhelming impulse and fisted his cock, tugging at his swollen shaft in quick strokes. He moaned, body arching at the sensation. He knew it wouldn't do any good. The pleasure just built and built, endless. Without direction. He was only stroking the fire of the heat, making it worse on himself.

Breathing heavily, he lurched from his bed and tottered across the room to his closet, his legs shaking and trembling beneath him. He agitatedly flung his neatly hung clothes to the side, the hangers scraping noisily at the abuse, and Martin lunged forward and grabbed the cardboard box at the very back of the closet.

He hadn't used his pitiful collection of toys in years and had almost got rid of them when he moved. Now, with wetness seeping down his thighs, Martin was fervently glad he'd kept them.

With fingers shaking, making him fumble at the thick gaffer's tape holding the top of the box closed, Martin whined, rocking his body back and forth futilely as need rose like fire in his body.

God, he _needed_. He needed…he needed…

Maybe he _should_ call Douglas. What if…what if he didn't take the piss? What if he actually came over and…and helped?

Martin shook his head. No. No. There were so many things wrong with calling Douglas. He just…couldn't think of them all at the moment. But he knew it wouldn't end well.

Martin stroked his cock desperately, sending rippling shocks of pleasure tingling up his spine as he scrabbled in the box of toys. There wasn't much to choose from- his supply of toys was pitifully small. Years ago, when he'd been trying to become a pilot, Martin had been even _more_ broke than he was now and hadn't been able to afford better. He'd bought the cheapest things he could and still satisfy himself. At least adequately.

Martin snatched one of the long, plastic, knotted dildos from the depths of the box, flushing at how obscene it looked, and rushed back to the bed. He swiped his hand through the wetness dripping down his thighs and lubed the cold, plastic toy up quickly. He positioned himself on his knees on the bed, reaching back awkwardly to guide the toy into his wet hole.

It was difficult. On his first attempt, Martin missed and the head of the toy skidded uselessly along his skin, then down along his perineum. Moaning in a sickening combination of frustration and need, Martin tried again, straining his shoulder and bending forward slightly, biting his lip, praying-

"_Ah_!" Martin's entire body jolted when the head of the toy popped past his ring of muscles. He grunted, gracelessly falling forward onto his face, not caring how pathetic or stupid he looked with his arse high in the air. No one else was there to see him anyway. He slipped one hand down between his legs to tug at his cock and the other, still strained back at an odd angle, he used to force the toy further into his arse, mouth falling open in shocked pleasure at how _good_ it felt. Martin quickly set about working the toy in and out, the squelch of the toy and his own muffled pants filling the air.

Squinting his eyes closed as the pleasure began a slow, agonizing build, Martin allowed himself to fantasize.

_His Alpha was behind him, his broad shoulders and solid chest pressing against Martin's back, hot and immoveable. His large, capable hands, calloused and rough from occasional manual labor, splayed against Martin's hips, holding him up and in position while his Alpha thrust into him. His cock, thick and hard and perfect, felt absolutely amazing, spearing into Martin- _

Martin whined desperately, pushing his hips forwards and backwards, fruitlessly trying to fuck himself faster, momentarily forgetting _he_ was the one controlling the toy.

He panted wetly into his pillow, trying to control his desperate moans which were escalating in intensity the closer he got to orgasm. He didn't think anyone downstairs would be able to hear him over the talking and music, but he didn't want to risk it. He didn't want anyone coming to check on him and seeing him…like this.

He bit into his pillow, grimacing at the taste of fabric softener on his tongue, and closed his eyes again.

_His Alpha was getting closer, fucking into Martin faster and faster. He grunted deeply with every pounding thrust and Martin moaned, angling his hips just so, groaning when his Alpha's cock skidded along his prostate. His Alpha's knot was catching on his rim with every thrust and Martin sobbed, pressing back against the feeling, wanting to be filled._

"Oh…Oh, D-Douglas…I'm close…I'm…oh, please-" Martin begged senselessly, gyrating his hips, frantically stroking his cock as his orgasm crested. "D-Douglas- Douglas, I'm- I'm coming!"

_Douglas shoved his cock inside Martin's body, his knot pushing inside, huge and invading. It hurt, stretching Martin's rim painfully, and tears sprung to his eyes, prickling and stinging. It triggered his release, the knowledge his Alpha was filling him, and warm wetness slicked across Martin's fingers as he came, keening with the wonderful relief of it. His Alpha was still behind him, his cock lodged immovably in Martin's body, and Martin sighed contentedly, his chest swelling with the feeling of being so…wanted. _

Martin slowly blinked his eyes open and the sight of his dismally plain, darkened room, shabbiness inherent in everything he saw, abruptly jerked him out of his fantasy as effectively as a bucket of ice cold water. Martin's heart sank and he suddenly felt incredibly stupid for having imagined what he had.

He fell to the side, carefully keeping the toy inside him, enjoying the way it filled him, keeping the aching emptiness momentarily at bay. His muscles twitched from the aftershocks of pleasure and his neck hurt from the unnatural position he'd forced it in to. Martin felt more clear-headed, the need abated…but he knew it wasn't over. Another wave of his heat would hit again soon and his stomach twisted at the horrible idea. He wanted to cry at the knowledge he had two and a half more days of this left, that he would face the rest of his heat _alone_.

He would have to be better prepared next month, he resolved. Book more van jobs or…or somehow reduce his grocery bill so he'd be able to afford his suppressants. There was no way he could go through this again.

No way.


End file.
